


Decision

by sylvershadoes



Series: Oberyn x Lyanna fics [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:32:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2286809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvershadoes/pseuds/sylvershadoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lyanna is distracted during their sparring, and Oberyn has a decision to make.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I figured that for the Tourney of Harrenhal people would stick around for a while, both before and after the tournament. Let’s face it, no one wants to make a month-long trip, just to go home a few days later. SO, they’ve been sparring together for about a month (two weeks before the tourney, the week of the tourney, and a week after the tourney).

Lyanna gasped as Oberyn landed a hard hit on her upper arm, causing him to frown and lower his practice sword. “What’s wrong with you today? I’ve seen you block much harder strikes than that one.”  

Lyanna glared at the ground, clearly frustrated.

“Lyanna?”

“Robert Baratheon has asked my father to betroth me to him,” she eventually admitted.

Oberyn wasn’t surprised by the news. He had, after all, seen the Storm Lord looking at Lyanna as though she were the Maid made flesh. The man made no secret of his… _feelings_  for the young woman. “You knew this was going to happen eventually,” he said softly.

“Well I didn’t think it would be so soon, and I’d  _hoped_ it would never happen at all.”

He gave her a weary smile. “In any case, what do you plan on doing now that it  _has_ happened?”

“Can we please just go back to sparring?”

“Why, so I can keep hitting you? You’re too distracted to learn anything.” It was true. She had seemed upset at the beginning of their session, but he’d dismissed it, choosing to go ahead with their lesson. That had been a mistake. She had been unfocused from the start, making mistakes she hadn’t made since he had first started training her. She wouldn’t learn anything in such a state.

 He couldn’t blame her though; no one – least of all, Lyanna – deserved to be married off to an oaf like Robert Baratheon.  Lyanna needed her freedom far too much to be married to that fool.  The marriage would kill her slower, and more painfully than any poison. The thought made Oberyn feel sick. “So, what do you plan to do?”

Lyanna frowned. “What  _can_  I do? My father wants me to marry, and Robert is the Lord of Storm’s End. He thinks it a good match. He’s always wanted a Southron alliance, and after the crowning incident, he wrote Brandon that he wants me at betrothed as soon as possible to avoid a scandal.”

Oberyn was had never seen Lyanna look so defeated. Her lovely face was set in despair, and her shoulders were hunched as though the entire world were weighing on her.  It was a disturbing change from the fierce, courageous young woman he had come to care for; the woman who had been willing to spar with the Red Viper, while there existed grown men too scared to do so.  “Your father can’t possibly think that you had anything to do with Rhaegar’s idiocy,” he said.

Lyanna gave him a bitter smile. “It really doesn’t matter if he believes the rumours or not; though, I’m sure he doesn’t.  What matters is that  _other_ people believe them, and it’s bad for the family name.”

“He values the opinions of others over your happiness?  I can’t even imagine forcing one of my own daughters into a marriage.”

Her smile softened, “Not all fathers give as much weight to their childrens’ opinions as you do, Oberyn. My father loves me, but he thinks that I’ll grow to like Robert eventually, and that my current complaints are just stubbornness.”

Oberyn moved to sit against a tree, and motioned to her to sit as well. “You won’t, though.” He was certain of that.

She smiled mockingly as she sat. “Oh, but he says he  _loves me_ , Oberyn. And that love has  _nothing_  to do with him being delusional. He just knows me so well. I’m a kind, delicate Northern lady with just enough willfulness to be interesting, but not enough to ever make me disagree with him.”  Oberyn smirked, and her smile widened, though it was still a sad parody of her usual grin. “And, of course, I will stop all of this fighting nonsense as soon as I’m married. I will realize that I’m being ridiculous, and turn to more womanly pursuits.”  

Oberyn scoffed at that. “ _Womanly pursuits_ , seven hells Lya, can you even do those?”

She elbowed him lightly in the side, finally giving him a real grin. “Of course I can, stupid! I’m actually rather good at sewing and needlework, but don’t _ever_  ask me to write poetry. I’m absolutely wretched at it.”

He laughed. “I won’t ask then.  I promise.”

They slipped into silence then, and Lyanna’s situation finally began to sink in for Oberyn. He couldn’t stand the idea of her marrying the Storm Lord. The fool didn’t deserve her in the least. She was kind, and witty, and so very brave.  There was only one solution he could think of.

Oberyn tried to find something to say. “Can’t your father find you someone else?  I’m sure you have other options.”

 “There are other men who have offered, but no other  _options_ , as far as my father is concerned.  Marrying Robert would make me the Lady of Storm’s End, and it would give my father a better alliance than he could hope to get by marrying me to anyone else. ”

Oberyn looked over at her, and made his decision.

“What if you married a prince?” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I wasn't planning on continuing this particular story, but a whole bunch of people were asking for me to continue so here you go! I hope you enjoy it. :)

_"What if you married a prince?"_

Lyanna laughed. “And where am I supposed to find one of those, my lord? The only one to show any interest in me is married to your sister! ”

Seven hells, she didn’t understand. She didn’t even remember he was a prince. He supposed it made sense; he never acted very princely around her. He never even insisted on using titles since their first session. They were just Oberyn and Lya during their lessons. She only called him ‘my lord’ mockingly.

“It’s ‘your highness ’.”

“What?”

“My proper title is ‘your highness’ not ‘my lord’.”

She looked over at him grinning. “Alright then _your highness_ where am I supposed to find  –.”

Her face went blank.

He smirked. “Finally understand, do you?”

To his horror, she looked at him as though he’d slapped her. She glared, even as her eyes filled with tears.  Apparently he was as wretched at proposing marriage as she claimed to be at poetry. Gods, why was she so upset? She couldn’t think him such a terrifying option, could she? Surely he was a better choice than Robert Baratheon. Perhaps there was different etiquette for proposals in the North. Maybe he’d given her some great insult without knowing. Damn, he should have asked Elia for advice first.

She was silent for a moment, causing Oberyn to panic further. Then she finally spoke. “That is a cruel joke, Oberyn.”

A joke? She thought he was joking?

“Lyanna, I –”

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore. My day has been wretched enough already. I suppose no one told you that in the North it's rude to mock your friends when they confide in you.”

He reached for her as she stood to leave, managing to catch her wrist and pull her back down beside him.

“Let go of me,” she snarled.  She made an attempt to wrench herself free, but he held on tightly.

“I wasn’t joking, Lya,” he said softly. Something in his tone must have caught her attention, because she stopped trying to pull away and looked up at him, grey eyes shining with tears. Then he did the only thing he could think of, the thing he had wanted to do since he first saw her sparring with her younger brother.  He released her wrist, and brought his hand to the back of her neck, and then he pressed his mouth to hers.  She gasped softly, and Oberyn quickly deepened the kiss, savouring the softness of her lips against his own.

If there was any way for him to convince her, that was it. Oberyn knew next to nothing about proposals, but he certainly knew kissing.

For a few terrifying seconds, Lyanna did nothing. Then she tentatively touched her tongue to his, and slowly began to return the kiss. He groaned against her mouth, and wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her closer to until she was nearly in his lap. She quickly gained confidence, and was soon pressing herself against him, causing the bark of the tree behind him to dig into his back through the fabric of his tunic. Oberyn barely noticed, too caught up in the kiss and his fantasies. He was pleased to note that even though she was clearly inexperienced, she was as quick of a learner in kissing as she was with a sword. If she was just as quick to learn when he took her to bed, then he had _definitely_ made the right decision in asking her to marry him.

He pulled away from her slowly, taking in her flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips. Her eyes were dark when they fluttered open, and Oberyn had to fight with the urge to kiss her again. He moved his hand from her neck to cup her face, running his thumb over her cheek. He once again admired the difference between their skin tones, allowing himself a brief moment to consider how much greater the contrast would be if neither of them were clothed.

Lyanna looked up at him with both wonder and want, but there was still confusion in her eyes as well. “Why? Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knows that you don’t want to marry.”

Oberyn forced his fantasies to the back of his mind for later, considering his response carefully. “I won’t lie and say that I love you, but I am certainly fond of you, and I know that in time I could. And I think you could love me too. We could be happy together, Lya. How can I let the woman I might one day come to love be married off to an oaf like Robert Baratheon?”

Lyanna looked at him, clearly considering his words. When she seemed to have decided he was telling the truth she smirked at him. “You know, I knew you wanted to bed me, but I never thought you would go quite so far to do it.” Her smirk widened. “I’m flattered, Viper, that you find me so desirable that you are willing to marry me just to get me into your bed.”

Oberyn was shocked. It was true that he had begun his friendship with Lyanna intending to seduce her, but he hadn’t thought _she_ was aware of that.

This was definitely not how proposals were supposed to happen.

Seeing his shocked expression Lya laughed, no traces of her earlier anger were left on her face. “I’m an _innocent,_ not an _idiot._ I’ve known for quite some time that you want to bed me. I was just hoping to get as many lessons from you as possible before you realized you couldn’t charm my clothes off of me.”

Oberyn couldn’t help but laugh along with her. She had known he wanted her all along, and she’d used it against him. “Seven hells, Lya! That settles it. I don’t just want you to marry me, I _need_ you to.”

“I’ll ask Brandon to speak to my father. Bran’s never been overly fond of Lord Robert either, so I’m sure he’ll be happy to present father with another option, especially if I tell him that I actually want to marry you.” She paused for a moment, and chuckled.

“What’s so funny now?”

She shot him a wicked grin. “I was just imagining how Robert is going to react when this is announced.”

Oberyn could feel himself grinning stupidly. “So, you’re saying yes?”

“On one condition.”

“Anything.”

Lyanna leaned closer to him. “Kiss me again.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written a kissing scene before, so tell me if it was any good!


End file.
